


naked days.

by katarama



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Naked Cuddling, Pegging, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 04:17:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5853931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katarama/pseuds/katarama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malia’s always been more comfortable being naked than Stiles.  Stiles wants to put it down to her being a coyote for so many years, of getting used to no clothes in the wild and of missing so much of the time when young girls are taught to be insecure about their bodies.  Either way, she has a quiet kind of confidence in herself and her body that Stiles finds unbelievably attractive, and has never been able to match himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	naked days.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexenglish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexenglish/gifts).



> Based on [this post](http://queerlyalex.tumblr.com/post/137530750962/okay-but-stiles-and-malia-in-their-first).

“Food’s here,” Malia shouts across the room.  Stiles didn’t hear the doorbell ring, but that’s one of the benefits of having a werecoyote for a girlfriend.  The car is probably all the way down the street, and Malia can hear the person talking on their phone.

“Cash is on the table,” Stiles says from the couch.  He’s comfortable, settled onto the comfortable cushions, and he doesn’t particularly want to move.  He knows the next time Scott comes over, there will be unimpressed glances; they inherited the couch from a friend of a friend, so it probably wasn’t the cleanest to begin with, and Malia and Stiles spend more time naked on that couch than they do in just about any place in the apartment but the bed and the shower.  

Stiles is immune to those looks from Scott, by now.  And besides, he bought Scott special ‘hiding the smell of ass and come from the couch’ air freshener, anyway.  Saturdays are sacred, and the only time Stiles is willing to put covers on any of their furniture is when Saturdays also overlap with Malia’s time of the month.  If Scott wanted, he could be right there with them.  But he’s boring, now that he’s older.  On Saturdays, he takes off, so he and Kira can go together to their kids’ lacrosse games.  Kira says that she and Scott are just as adventurous in bed as Stiles and Malia, but Stiles hasn’t seen proof, and a lot of what he and Malia do doesn’t happen in bed, anyway.

“Did you find it?” Stiles asks.  “It might be under one of the cases Allison brought over.”

“Which one?” Malia asks wryly.  “There’s enough paper for ten cases on this table.”

“The top one, probably.”

Stiles can practically feel Malia’s flat expression from all the way over on the couch, but it doesn’t seem to matter.  A couple of minutes and a loud thump later, Malia calls out, “Found it.”

The doorbell rings, and it isn’t until Malia’s halfway there that Stiles turns to see her walking towards the door, her bottom bare.  “Malia,” he reminds her, “we aren’t banging the delivery guy.”

“He won’t see anything,” she reassures him, adamant as ever to avoid clothing.  Stiles honestly doesn’t care enough to make a point of it, because she’s much more comfortable this way, and his reminder means she’ll at least sort of hide behind the door, maybe only flashing the guy a boob or so.  Stiles has long since gotten over thinking that other people seeing Malia naked is a threat to their relationship, or is a reason to be jealous.  Malia and Stiles have had lots of people in their bed over the years, and at the end of the day, it always comes back to just the two of them, together and naked on Saturdays, except for the occasional pair of socks and the strap-on harness that Malia insists doesn’t count as wearing clothes.  

Malia’s always been more comfortable being naked than Stiles.  Stiles wants to put it down to her being a coyote for so many years, of getting used to no clothes in the wild and of missing so much of the time when young girls are taught to be insecure about their bodies.  Either way, she has a quiet kind of confidence in herself and her body that Stiles finds unbelievably attractive, and has never been able to match himself.

Naked Saturdays help.  He’s come a long way since the high school boy who met her, the one who ducked behind his locker when he was going to change his shirt before lacrosse games.  Being naked has become a lot more normalized for Stiles, and he’s grown to appreciate it in a way that isn’t blinded by nerves and anxiety and self-consciousness.  He likes the way Malia can reach over and touch him, bare skin against bare skin.  It isn’t always sexual, and Stiles likes that, too, though he can’t deny that he likes the way it provides easy access, no barriers between the two of them, his hands around her waist turning quickly into his fingers in her cunt.  

Now that he’s more used to it, he even likes the fact that Malia’s eyes are on him when his clothes are off, the feeling of vulnerability and insecurity fading with the easy contact and with the reassurance that she likes him and his body, for all its flaws.  She’s honest about what she likes and what she’s attracted to, and it turns Saturdays into days that are both comforting and sexually arousing.  He gets to see what makes her wet and what makes her nipples go hard, just the same way she can see her effect on him.

“Here’s the food,” she says once she’s paid the delivery guy, plopping down the big bag on the table.  “If you eat all the fried rice again, we watch nature documentaries next time it’s your TV time.”

“Hey, I’m just as good at sharing as you are,” Stiles complains, bringing his legs together so she can squeeze in next to him on the couch, her thighs pressing against his.  “You always take all the scallion pancakes.”

“I always offer to get two orders,” Malia says, like it doesn’t make her a dirty, rotten scallion pancake thief.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles says, kissing her on the side of the head.  He tries to snags the carton from the bag while she’s distracted, but there’s no fooling Malia.  There’s never fooling Malia, he laments, the carton in her hands.

At least she’s nice, this time, and she only takes three of the four.  She sits on his lap, knowing that it will get him hard, with no clothing between her ass and his dick, and he considers it an adequate compromise.

* * *

 

Stiles’ favorite thing about naked days is that they allow for the two of them to be spontaneous.  Malia always laughs, when he says it that way, because she insists that ‘spontaneous’ is the most obvious euphemism for ‘we have a lot of kinky sex’ ever.  Stiles doesn’t entire disagree, but one doesn’t get Kira giggling at him as his cheeks flush up, so he goes with ‘spontaneous’.

Malia’s strong, stronger than Stiles by a long shot, and it makes things more fun.  She can pin him against the wall, kiss him and fuck him onto her strap-on, Stiles giving way to the push and pull of her body, reveling in the lack of control he has.  They left comestains on the wall one time and decided that maybe they needed to repaint, but they’d gotten as far as going to the hardware store before they realized that it was more effort than it was worth and decided to just leave it.  Lydia tried to give them a painting to hang to cover it up, but Stiles kinds of likes it there.  It’s a reminder to him of how he felt with Malia’s cock deep inside him, gravity working with her to make sure Stiles felt so thoroughly fucked that his moans had the neighbors calling the police on them.  

One Saturday, they break the kitchen table, the one wobbly leg finally giving out with Malia and Stiles’ combined weight on it, Malia falling down on top of Stiles, her hands slipping from her cunt to brace their fall.  It takes Stiles a moment to recover, sizing up his limbs to make sure they’re all okay, but Malia just laughs into the crook of his neck, whispering that they’re both going to get ass splinters.  A new table appears in their kitchen a few days later, and Malia never questions how it gets there.  She just puts on a new tablecloth, one that barely stretches to cover the longer edges.

Stiles’ real favorite, though, is when they settle in to watch tv together.  Malia never asks for it, but Stiles likes sinking down to his knees on the extra plush carpet they installed when they moved in, likes spreading her thighs and getting his face in her cunt.  She gets so wet, and it smears all over his skin, leaves his lips tasting like her until he finally buckles down and brushes his teeth.  he gets to feel the slick coming from her pussy, gets to taste with every gush that he’s making her feel good, hear every uptick in the speed of her breathing, every noise she refuses to dampen down.  He kisses her cunt until she’s so sensitive she can’t come another time, until her voice is hoarse and Stiles is so hard he’s made a wet spot on the carpet.

Sometimes there’s a cock between Malia’s legs, soft and purple and big, and he sucks it just as eagerly as he does her clit in his mouth, even though it doesn’t affect her the same way.  She still likes it, letting him work the cock into his throat until he’s practically choking on it.  He likes it that way, too, because it takes longer, takes more effort from him to bring Malia to the same place.  He knows she likes the way he looks with his lips stretched and red, though, his spit the only thing slicking the way down for him.

They sometimes doze off right there for the night, cuddled up on the couch together.  But they’re getting older, now, and he can feel it in his bones when they do that, the steady ache that tells him he needs to be in his bed.  It makes him think, sometimes, makes him ask Malia quietly if she’s happy with where they are, if she wants kids or wants a ring or wants a mortgage.

“No,” she reassures him, eyes sleepy and confused.  “Do you?”

Someday he knows they’ll probably sign the papers in the courthouse and let his dad tear up over getting to see his kid happily married.  Someday, they might want a kid and might go through the process of adoption, since Malia has always been certain about not want a kid coming from her vagina.  Someday, they might move into a house in the suburbs and might understand what it feels like to live like functioning adults.

Right now, though?  

“Nah,” he answers, wrapping his hand around hers.  “I just want you.”

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr [here](sleepy-skittles.tumblr.com).


End file.
